Respecting the Fallen
by Anteater
Summary: A one-shot in honor of Veteran's Day.


A/N: I have been crazy busy lately but couldn't help writing this one in honor of Veteran's Day. Please read and review! Enjoy!

Warning: Spoilers for Two Bodies in the Lab, The Soldier on the Grave, and a very slight one for The Foot in the Foreclosure.

Respecting the Fallen

Dr. Temperance Brennan was irritated. Her partner of five years, FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth, was supposed to pick her up five minutes ago so they could go to a crime scene. He had called her and interrupted her identifying of World War I soldiers that she had been working on for three days, telling her that they had a case and that he would come to her office to help her carry the equipment she would need for the body at the crime scene. That was fifteen minutes ago and she was still in her office waiting for Booth, tapping her foot insistently and getting very inpatient. She looked out the glass door of her office and around the corner to see if he was on his way. What she saw surprised her. She saw Booth talking to one of the older security guards. She wasn't close enough to hear the conversation but the body language was clear enough for her. The older guard, Gary was his name, was thanking Booth for something and Brennan could see that Booth's face was flushed lightly in embarrassment as he nodded his head at the guard, inching closer and closer to Brennan's office as if trying to escape the conversation. Gary finally stuck out his hand to shake Booth's and Brennan saw him clearly mouth the words 'Thank you.' Booth just nodded again and released Gary's hand, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he looked at the ground and walked away from Gary, looking very relieved that the conversation was over, a slight limp marring his normally confident, smooth stride.

Now Brennan's curiosity was peaked and her irritation was replaced instantly by a long list of questions. What had they been talking about? Why did Booth look so anxious to get away from the conversation? Why now did he have that hurt little boy look on his face that he sometimes got when they had a particularly bad case?

Booth's thought were about a million miles away as he watched himself put one foot in front of the other to walk to Brennan's office. He was seriously thinking about calling in sick today, pulling the blinds of his apartment shut and pretending like the day never happened. But then Hacker called him a couple of hours ago and told him that him and Bones had a case, so he begrudgingly got out of bed and got ready to face the day. It was bad enough that this day invoked memories he would rather not think about but when Gary had approached him, he had been thrown off guard. He wanted to back out of that conversation as soon as possible and not only because he knew that Brennan would be waiting for him, most likely impatiently. Still entrenched in his own head, he didn't even see Brennan until he bumped right into her.

"Booth!" she exclaimed in surprise, not expecting him to knock into her as she lost her balance. He grabbed her by her biceps to steady her and pulled her close. Once she was steady, she expected him to let go of her but he kept hanging on. She turned her face to look into his eyes and saw something warring in his expressive brown eyes; guilt versus something else she was too scared to identify. "Booth, you can let me go now," she told him after a moment of staring.

That seemed to snap him out of whatever he was thinking as he released her quickly, his face flushing a little bit in embarrassment. He looked anywhere but her and coughed a little bit to clear his throat. "Sorry about that, Bones," he said, cursing himself under his breath for his stupid action. He couldn't let himself get too caught up in her, today of all days.

Now that she stepped away from him a little bit and she could think again without his cologne in her head, her irritation at his tardiness returned. "Booth, where were you? With any luck, the local police department has ruined the crime scene and I won't be able to gather any evidence that will help identify the victim," she told him as she went pick up her bags, missing the look of hurt in Booth's eyes at her statement.

"Ya know, Bones, sometimes I have other things to do than cater to your every need," Booth snapped at her, taking out his recent frustrations on her. He grabbed two of the bags that were closet to the door and stalked out to the parking garage and his car, assuming that she would follow him. He couldn't take any of her crap right now, not today, but even so, he felt immense guilt after his statement and mused over how he was going to apologize to her on his way to the car.

Brennan stood and stared at his retreating figure for a minute, shocked by his outburst. He was usually very patient with her. What is going on with him, Brennan thought. She grabbed her bag and followed him quickly, hoping to get to the crime scene before the local guys screwed it up.

The drive to the crime scene was completed in silence. Brennan noticed Booth was white-knuckling the steering wheel and his jaw was clenched throughout their ride. Usually if they didn't talk during their ride, the silence was comfortable but this time; Brennan could feel the tension within the car. She pretended to read the case file Booth had given her in order to avoid looking at him throughout he ride but couldn't seem to stop her eyes from sliding over his form, trying to figure out what was wrong with him.

As far as Booth was concerned, they couldn't get to the crime scene fast enough. He really wanted to apologize to her but couldn't say the words right now, still reeling from her harsh words earlier. He always felt guilty on this day, every year for a long time. He knew he was supposed to be proud of the work he had done and to some extent he did but this day stirred up too many bad memories to let the proud feelings shine through. He hoped that one day he would be able to celebrate with everyone else and accept the kind words from those who knew but it was still too fresh, too recent, too raw. And the placement of the holiday did not help much either. With the dropping temperatures, the healed bones in his feet always begin to ache as the days get shorter, a glaring reminder that his past was still very much his present.

When the car stopped, Brennan threw open the door and hurried out to where a group of officers and FBI Agents were standing, wanting to get away from the tense atmosphere of the car as much as make sure her remains were not being compromised by the amateurs already at the crime scene. Finally reaching the remains, she tried to focus on the task on hand: identifying the set of bones in the shallow grave in the middle of this field. She turned her head to where Booth normally would stand in a crime scene, but instead of him being there, a couple of feet behind her with his pen and note cards ready to write down what she said, she saw that some of the agents had approached him. They were too far away for Brennan to hear but Booth had the same look on his face he did this morning when he was talking to Gary.

"You must be very proud of Agent Booth," an FBI tech standing next to her said. Brennan startled at hearing her voice, her mind totally concentrated on her partner.

Brennan turned towards the tech. "I'm very proud of Booth. But how would you know that?" she said in her usually blunt matter of speaking.

"I don't mean in general; I mean of his service to his country. Not many people have the guts and courage that Booth has and he has the medals to prove it," the tech replied before going back to taking pictures of the crime scene.

Brennan was now thoroughly confused, a feeling that she didn't get very often and decided that she really didn't like all that much. Why would this woman bring up Booth's military service?

"It's Veteran's Day today, Dr. Brennan," the tech elaborated, correctly interpreting her questioning look.

In a flash, everything came together for Brennan. Memories of his X-rays that showed the evidence of what his time in the Army did to him physically and a conversation had by the graveside of a fallen soldier four years ago about a little boy's ruined birthday party, evidence of the emotional impact. She looked back at Booth, for once concerned more about the living humans at a crime scene instead of the dead ones. The other agents were still talking to him but Brennan noticed that he was not really talking, looking anywhere but the people trying to talk to him. He finally made eye contact with her and Brennan knew he was uncomfortable. Deciding to help him out, she called over to him.

"Booth, I need your help over here," she yelled. She almost smiled at the look of relief on his face, as she watched him leave the group and hurry over to her.

"Thanks, Bones," he whispered to her before getting out his notes and writing down her initial assessment of the scene.

*******

Later that night, Brennan sat in her car, looking at the lone figure standing on the hill before her, outlined by the moon's glow, his shoulders hunched with his hands in his pockets and his stance weary. After they were finished at the crime scene, Booth dropped her off at the Jeffersonian, telling her that he would call her tomorrow regarding the case. Brennan just nodded, not knowing how to broach the subject. She tried to call him later to see if he wanted to grab dinner but he wasn't answering his phone. And even though Brennan was not good at reading people, she knew Booth and she knew that he would be here.

Booth looked down at the headstone at his feet. _SPC James Richards_. He had already visited Cpl. Parker's grave, smiling at the fresh flowers he saw there, knowing they were brought by Teddy's former love. Now, looking down at Richards' grave, he was instantly transported to the jungles of Guatemala, where they had waited for two days in the stifling humidity, being eaten alive by bugs the size of a small rat, waiting for the shot. He closed his eyes to try and block out the images now playing on the back of his eyelids in Technicolor. The snapping of a twig brought him back to reality and he could feel Bones' presence behind him and it instantly soothed his troubled mind. He didn't turn around but he could feel her stop a few feet behind him, the moon casting a slight shadow on the ground next to him and the scent of her perfume tickled his senses as the cool November breeze circled them both. He thought back to what Hank told him so long ago and started to speak.

"I was so eager to enlist in the Army right out of high school. My grandfather always told me and Jared that he was so proud the day that put on a uniform and I wanted to feel that same thing. I excelled in boot camp and I felt like I finally found my place in this world. Pops came to my boot camp graduation and I have never seen him more proud of me. My staff sergeant noticed my skill with a rifle and automatically enrolled me in Ranger School. I met some great people there, Bones. I just wish that most of them were still around so you could meet them," Booth told her as his voice caught in his throat.

Brennan could feel her eyes start to water as she was drawn into Booth's story. She was rooted to where she stood, hanging on his every word about his past.

"I did a lot of ugly things when I was in the Rangers but also some good. I will never forget playing soccer with some kids in a field in Serbia in between missions or giving medical supplies to a tiny hospital in Afghanistan. But unfortunately, those aren't the first things I remember when people ask me about my time in the military. I see my victims, my captors, and all the dead soldiers I served with. I see their devastated families. I see the face of my physical therapist trying to teach how to walk again. And I see my own son asking about what his daddy did in the Army and hoping and praying that he doesn't think I'm a monster. Don't get me wrong, Bones, I'm proud to have served my country," he said, pausing for a moment to get his emotions under control. "I just don't think that I'm very worthy of the respect in people's eyes when they thank me for serving our country."

After he finished, Booth felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders but he was terrified of Bones' response. Would she think he was weak? A coward? Would she leave? As the minutes passed, his anxiety increased and he felt the weight returning to his shoulder ten-fold.

Brennan was stunned into silence by his admission. All of her anthropological reasons for why young men went to war were instantly changed by her partner's statement. She saw Booth's head drop of his chest and realized that she hadn't responded yet. Heeding Angela's advice from four years ago, she walked up behind her strong, lion-hearted partner and slipped her arms around his waist from behind and flattened her hands against his chest, holding him tightly as she buried her head in his shoulder blade, her check resting against his heart. She felt Booth tense at first but she didn't let go. She felt Booth withdraw his hands from his pockets and felt him entwine his fingers with hers on his chest, holding both of her hands securely against him as if to protect her from the ugliness that caused this place to be a necessity.

"Thank you, Booth," she whispered against him.

He wasn't sure if she was thanking him for the same reason everyone else was today, but he didn't care. He was willing to finally try and put his demons to rest with her by his side and hopefully next year see himself as those who thanked him did: someone with the will and fortitude to serve the country they loved.

**Happy Veteran's Day to all those who have served. This country's grateful citizens appreciate your service.**


End file.
